Try Explaining That One
by Anya2
Summary: “Dude, you got floored by a girl...” It certainly wasn't one of Dean's finest moments. DeanOFC


**Title: **Try Explaining That One  
**Rating: **R  
**Characters:** Sam, Dean, OC  
**Pairing: **Dean/OC  
**Warnings:** Some adult stuff, nothing too explicit  
**Spoilers: **None

**Summary: **"Dude, you got floored by a girl..." It certainly wasn't one of Dean's finest moments.

* * *

"Dean, where's my sandwich?" 

"Sandwich?"

Play innocent that was always the best strategy. Although Dean should have known it would be a lost cause really. He didn't do the innocent thing very well.

Sam just glared at him, confirming that it definitely wasn't working.

"My sandwich," he demanded again, ""It was in the fridge."

"I don't know, maybe you ate it," Dean suggested with a shrug, eyes glued to the TV.

"No," Sam said irritably, "I was going to eat it now but someone got there first."

"Yeah and why do you think that's me, huh?" Dean asked, "Could have been Izzy." With his tone of voice alone he pretended to be offended that Sam was accusing him straight out.

"He's thinking 'law of averages'," Izzy reasoned, sitting on the bed, nose in a book and not looking up, obviously not feeling the need to protest her own innocence in the matter.

Dean had to admit that she was right there. It certainly did seem that on probabilities he was the most likely suspect. He was also guilty too so those probabilities were spot on.

"Well?" Sam asked, looking back at him, obviously expecting a confession and an apology.

Dean shrugged with an unbothered smile. Sam could be such a little girl about things sometimes. He needed to chill out more.

"If it's any consolation it wasn't all that great. Not enough mayo."

Sam muttered something angrily and likely non complimentary under his breath, picked up his jacket and stormed out, saying something about going to the store.

Dean didn't really catch what he'd said actually. His brain was already many steps ahead thinking of other things.

No Sam, Izzy here, bed here. It was simple really.

They'd been really busy in the last three weeks, moving from job to job, spending most of their time in the car travelling. He'd barely had opportunity to kiss her let alone get her naked and underneath him. Three damn weeks and he felt like he was going the tiniest bit crazy. He was a young, healthy guy in his prime and he had needs after all. His own hand in the shower really wasn't good enough when he had a hot girl who he could be with if only circumstance didn't collaborate against him. Sam would probably scoff at him, saying he was like some horny teenager, but Sam acted like some kind of nun at times, going months without so much as kissing a girl. Dean could understand that he'd lost Jessica, that it had been hard on him and it had taken a while for him to get over it but damn, the boy surely must be gagging for it by now. There was only so long a guy could last. Dean liked sex and he loved his girl. The two together led to a want for sex with her and as far as he was concerned there was nothing wrong with that at all no matter how much Sam rolled his eyes at him.

He pulled the book straight out of her hands as he climbed onto the bed and straddled over her. She shot him a most unimpressed look.

"What are you doing?"

"Making the most of an opportunity," he reasoned, leaning down and kissing her very firmly, leaving her in no doubt of his intentions.

She indulged him for a pleasant moment before she pushed him back.

"No," she said firmly.

"No?" he questioned, sitting up slightly, raising a surprised eyebrow. She never said 'no' to him. Or when she did she never actually meant it and it soon turned into 'yes' and 'please' and 'oh, yes...god Dean...please'.

"Dean," she said, half pleading with him now but not in the way that he liked, "I'm trying to work. We're going be in Ashton by tomorrow and I need to read up on this local legend by then or we're not going to know where to look for this ghost, okay?"

"Let Sam do it," he reasoned with a shrug, not seeing the problem, "He's a 'weird things' nerd. He enjoys that kind of stuff."

Sometimes you had to prioritise. Right now he was prioritising the fact that he was getting a bit desperate for having his naked, sweaty body right next to hers. Besides, he told himself, he might get sloppy on the hunt if his brain was elsewhere, thinking about how he could get into her pants rather than how to kill whatever they were tracking down. They couldn't afford to be sloppy in their job and therefore he couldn't afford not to get it on with her now. It was important to the mission. It was the kind of reasoning he liked.

Izzy seemed to be in disagreement. He knew from experience that she certainly wasn't some kind of nun but hell was she stubborn at times. It was almost a bruise to his ego that she wasn't as desperate for him as he was for her. But, he realised, she probably was only she was much better at hiding it.

"He's checking out the newspaper reports," Izzy explained patiently in response to his idea, trying to let Dean down fairly gently. Trying to make him understand that unfortunately her priorities had to be elsewhere.

He wasn't exactly in agreement with that.

She picked up her book and held it in front of her face as she continued to read, perhaps hoping that if she ignored him long enough he'd go away. He wasn't so easily defeated however, especially not when he was feeling increasingly and desperately horny and the sensation of her underneath him was only deepening that.

He slid down her body and leant forward, his hands lifting the bottom of her shirt and his lips pressing kisses to her belly.

"What are you doing?" she muttered with a slightly annoyed huff, not looking out from behind her book.

"You're supposed to be working, remember?" he reminded her, dodging the exact question between presses of his lips along her flesh.

"I am trying to, yes."

He smiled against her skin.

"Well don't let me stop you."

Determined and stubborn she carried on reading. She continued to do so even as he ran his tongue and his lips over her, dipping into her navel and then across the delicate flesh of her hip bones. Even when he ran low, right at the top of her jeans and over that spot that always made her groan, her resolve held.

Right that was up until the moment that he undid her fly and pressed his mouth against her underwear, the scent of her so close that it seemed to send his body's entire blood supply straight to his groin. God, he really did need this. When it came to sex patience wasn't often a virtue.

"Dean!" she huffed, at last throwing her book down in frustration.

He gave her the most annoyingly cocky grin.

"I thought you were working," he said, sitting up, removing his t-shirt and tossing it away before sliding his hands up her body and under her own shirt. A yank in the right direction and the buttons easily opened to reveal light tan skin and a black bra that made the crotch of his jeans even more uncomfortably tight.

"I was trying to," she pointed out as he pulled her slightly so she was lying on her back before he descended on her, kissing his way up her body, pressing his lips ever so slightly at the amazingly soft skin of her breasts. Despite herself she ran her hands over his back and shoulders, fingernails teasing his muscles and smooth, warm skin. The feel of it made him shiver in anticipation, memories of how she would cling onto him as he moved inside her flooding his brain.

"You're not trying very hard now," he pointed out, kissing her mouth long and hard, tongue pressing past her lips with a groan as she grabbed his backside and pulled his hips a little closer to her.

The feel of his erection throbbing against her thigh seemed to snap her out of the pleasant place that she'd momentarily slipped in to.

"Dean," she warned, "Sam could be back any minute. I don't want him seeing me naked."

"That's fine," Dean said, sliding down her a little again, "You can keep your clothes on."

He smiled broadly as he pushed the cup of her bra down and ran a slow tongue over her nipple. Damn did her skin taste good.

"Mostly anyway," he qualified before dipping his head down to take her breast between his lips, sucking lightly at increasingly sensitive flesh.

Her hands instinctively swept through his short hair as he hardened the pressure of his mouth and flicked his tongue over her. He shifted his hips slightly, easing the way she unintentionally writhed against him. It had been a while and he wasn't going to last very long if she kept doing that. She moaned lightly as he ran his tongue over her breast and then blew cool air across it. For a moment he thought that he had her sold on the idea but there was still a big proportion of her brain however that seemingly refused to give in, still stuck on practicalities.

"I don't particularly want him to see us having sex either," she reasoned, her fingers running over his arms as though they were trying to soothe him into submission, "Come on, let's at least take this to the bathroom."

Dean sighed against her flesh. That wasn't exactly what he had had in mind.

"Look I'm getting pretty hacked off with bathrooms okay," he said fingers still caressing her whilst his mouth was busy talking, moving up her body again so his lips could speak into her ear, "I'm getting tired of screwing against walls, in showers and on hard floors. I want a bed and my girl, is that too much to ask?"

He was sure from her light groan that she could probably understand those sentiments just as well as he did but it still didn't quell her reasonable inhibitions which his own sex addled brain seemed willing to ignore.

"But Sam..." she pointed out again.

Dean smiled his face hovering just above hers.

"Then we'd better make his hard and quick," he reasoned, his voice holding honeyed promise. To be honest he didn't think he could manage anything more than 'quick' anyway, not in his current state.

He rolled onto his side just a little and his hand immediately left her breasts, sliding straight down her body and into her underwear. The protests of her mouth obviously weren't shared by her entire being he realised as he discovered that she was already damp. The idea of soon pushing himself inside that heat and wet made his whole body tense in anticipation.

So much so that he was completely unable to hold himself when she pushed him away.

She was only of average height and build and she wasn't strong but she did have enough experience to know how to make the best of her weight. Her hands on his shoulders hadn't meant to push him so hard but she was startled when she felt his fingers on her, her brain coming out of the hazy fuzz it had momentarily slipped into and imagining just how embarrassing it would be for Sam to walk him and see Dean fingering her. Instinct had kicked in telling her she had to stop this right now.

Dean wobbled a moment, unsuccessfully trying to save himself, before he rolled right off the bed and landed on the floor with a hard thump, his head banging against the small side table.

Izzy was on the floor in front of him in seconds, looking mortified.

"Dean?" she asked, grabbing his cheeks between her hands to make him look at her as he groggily sat up, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his swimming brain.

"You could have just said 'no'," he pointed out, groaning slightly in pain.

"I tried to, remember? You wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

"So you decided to try hitting me?"

"I was taken by surprise," she explained, a little sheepish.

Feeling his head still throbbing and recognising the sweep of nausea, he reached behind it and was unsurprised to see blood on his fingers when he looked at them.

"Oh god..." she muttered again moving closer to him, bending his head forward so she could get a proper look. It left his mouth centimetres from her breasts. Almost on instinct, his brain clearly still slightly frazzled, he nearly bent forward to kiss them before she pulled back again.

"I don't think it's too bad but we'd better get you to the hospital. You're probably going to need a couple of stitches."

She stood, hurriedly doing up her top and jeans whilst looking around for his discarded t-shirt. Dean was almost disappointed to see her dressing, almost got up and told her that he was fine and that they should make their way to the bathroom to continue what they'd started if that's what she wanted. As soon as he tried to move however the room seemed to spin and he decided that she probably wouldn't find him very attractive if he started throwing up. Concussion it seemed was a real passion killer.

Fortunately she was in a complete state of dress before the door opened and Sam walked in moments later.

"Dean?" he asked in concern as he quickly took in the scene in front of him, "Hey, what happened?"

Their argument from before was clearly forgotten as he crossed over to his brother and knelt by him, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and concern.

"I...er..." Dean mumbled, struggling to think of any explanation that wasn't hideously embarrassing.

Izzy it seemed had no such qualms.

"He fell off the bed," she explained simply as she walked over and handed him the shirt she'd found.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise.

"He fell off the bed?" he checked.

She nodded.

"Without his shirt?" Sam questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Izzy immediately blushed slightly, getting the feeling that Sam had cottoned on way too successfully to what had happened. Dean just grumbled irritably, saving her having to answer any more questions with his complaints that if they were going to make him go to the hospital they'd better get moving.

Dean ran his fingers lightly over the stitches on the back of his head. The cut wasn't deep and it had only need two of three to close it. He really hoped it wouldn't leave a scar. It wasn't exactly a moment he wanted to remember. His other scars weren't always welcome but they were reminders; of triumph, of loss or of simply still being alive against all the odds. This one would be just embarrassing though.

Sam walked through the open door, hands in his jacket pockets, nodding at Dean in a manner that was almost smug.

Izzy was off being lectured by one of the nurses about how to keep an eye on Dean and what signs to look out for to check if he was suddenly getting worse. She already knew well enough of course but had decided that it would speed up the process of them getting out of there if she went and listened like a good girl. They were only waiting now for her to get back and for the doctor to sign the release forms, then he could be off.

"Hey," Dean said in greeting when Sam just walked over to him and said nothing at all.

Sam nodded back.

There was more silence. Dean didn't like it.

"We nearly ready to go?" he asked, for the sake of saying something.

Sam nodded continuing to be irritating by saying nothing more.

"Did you get your sandwich?" Dean asked, a bit desperate for something to talk about now.

Sam nodded. A slight grin spread across his face. Dean knew he wouldn't have been able to hold that blank expression for long.

"Okay, what?" Dean asked finally, annoyed now, wondering what the hell Sam was laughing at.

"Izzy kind of told me what happened," Sam said, grin widening.

"Oh."

Dean had never blushed in his life but he damn well came close in that moment.

Sam was desperately fighting a laugh back.

"It's not funny!" Dean protested.

But Sam couldn't help himself.

"Dude you got floored by a girl!"

Dean resolved right then and then to wait until Sam was asleep and shave off his eyebrows.


End file.
